


Fall Together

by AnontheNullifier



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: An Ode to Fall, F/M, Fluff, Steamier than a pumpkin spice latte, They can't keep their hands off each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8252675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnontheNullifier/pseuds/AnontheNullifier
Summary: Wanda and Vision have been ordered to stay at the compound until the rest of the team returns from a mission. After almost two weeks, they decide to sneak out for a day and partake of fall in Upstate New York.





	

The compound is serenely quiet as Vision stands at the window watching the wind racing through the leaves. For the past twelve days he has catalogued the subtle change in their color, starting with (the aptly named) forest green to celadon, and then, much to his delight, they began to divert and each tree developed a distinct personality.

As he begins to identify the new colors that have appeared over night, his auditory sensors pick up a subtle tapping sound and he quickly sorts through the possibilities before deciding on the culprit. Wanda’s slippers are old and, as she calls them, well loved, and so the rubber dots on the soles have hardened and begun to peel. The tapping grows louder, an antecedent to the pressure of arms wrapping around him. “Good morning.”

A muffled “Morning,” vibrates against his chest and he brings an arm to rest on her shoulders.

“Did you sleep well?” He smiles at the way she buries her face into his chest and nods in the affirmative. Mornings, he has come to learn, are rather difficult for many humans. Each member of the team requires a different coping method upon waking, and Vision attempts to provide adequate nourishment and company depending on the team member. Wanda requires physical contact and little conversation until the remnants of dreams have settled. And so they stand together and he resumes his leaf cataloging.

Eventually her face pulls back from his sweater and her eyes are drawn towards the window. “Any new colors today?” There is a touch of hoarseness in her voice and he makes a note to add extra honey to her tea.

“Yes. Chartreuse, burnt orange, and sinopia.”

“So,” she studies the trees outside, “yellow, obviously orange, and that dark red over there?”  The tree she indicates is actually Tuscan red but Vision determines she may deem it too early for a debate on color differentiation.

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

Their actions have become so routine that there are no words exchanged, or thoughts read, as he prepares her tea (with just a touch more honey) and she steals some of the boiling water for oatmeal. Vision allows her to eat in silence, occasional gentle smiles and glances are exchanged until she has finished her food.

Vision considers how odd it will be once the rest of the team gets back from their mission. He and Wanda have been alone at the compound for almost two weeks with little to no contact with the outside world.

“Vision?”

“Yes?”

“I think if I stay in the compound any longer I may go crazy.”

His fingers bend slightly with tension. Eventually he knew they would enter the jailbreak phase of ordered solitude and he'd be lying if he claimed not to be feeling antsy to get out as well. “But Captain Rogers ordered us to remain at the compound until they return. We can-”

“Please don't say walk around the lake, we've done that at least twice a day.” His mouth opens a fraction and then closes, his suggestion a moot point. “We can take one of the cars and explore?”

Desperation wraps around his shoulders, his objectivity and logic is always most vulnerable at the hands of Wanda, and at the moment he cannot tell if he should flee or give in. “They should be returning soon, I am certain Captain Rogers would approve a request for a day trip once he is here.”

“Yeah and like our last date he'd send Natasha to spy on us. Come on, this is our chance to actually do something alone.” When he hesitates she stands from the table and walks towards him, the swaying of her hips and the way her fingers run along his neck are a death knell to his resistance. “I'll let you set the itinerary and we will actually follow it.”

“You must be desperate.”

Wanda brings her face close enough that he can feel her breath on his skin. “I am. Just think, a perfectly timed, orderly itinerary that I will not throw out the window.”

Vision stares into her eyes, contemplating every possible complication that could arise from the trip, but he'd be remiss to deny the temptation. “I did inform Captain Rogers of a loose wire in the surveillance system,” an impish smile spreads across her face, and he finds his lips quirking up in response, “so if the cameras were to malfunction for a day it would not be wholly surprising.”

Her thumbs brush along his cheeks as she leans in the short distance to kiss him. “I'm going to take a shower while you plan the trip.”

 

When they reconvene it is in the garage, Wanda freshly showered and exuding excitement with every breath, while Vision attempts to not feel guilty at nudging the loose wire a bit to the right, conveniently cutting the security cameras from the rooms they are most likely to occupy.  “I say we take the Lamborghini.”  The pointed silence that follows causes her to glance at him, her lips curling up into a playful smile as she shrugs. “Might as well go big or go home, right?”

Vision lightly grips her shoulders and turns her towards an unassuming blue SVU. “I was thinking something more inconspicuous.”

“Fine, but I’m driving.”

It isn’t until they are about ten miles from the compound, winding through country roads flanked by forested mountains, that Vision begins to feel a strange roiling in his chest. His face falls in concern as the bubbling sensation grows until a brief, strangled laugh escapes his lips and he clamps his mouth shut, eyes wide and body stiff with shock . Wanda reaches over to grab his hand. “You doing okay there, rebel?”

His eyes travel to their hands and then out the window, taking in the the mottled mountains and fields. “I believe I am both terrified and exhilarated at our blatant disregard for orders.”

Any concern he has washes away at the wave of pure joy in her voice. “I hope I haven't created a monster, it just takes one time and you're hooked.”

“Is this a common occurrence for you, then?”

Wanda grins at him, “Oh yeah, Pietro and I used to sneak out all the time. Really the sneaking out was the best part but we'd find stuff to do as well.”  She pulls her hand back to navigate a particularly sharp curve. “One time, there was this celebrity pony in town-” her hand leaves the wheel again to playfully push his shoulder. “Don't give me that look, it was a big deal!”

“My apologies, go on.”

“Well our parents said we couldn't go. So after they went to bed we climbed out the window and snuck into the stable.”

“Did you get an autograph?” The way her laughter fills the car eases his uncertainty a bit more.

“Our,” her breath hitches as her lungs attempt to calm down, “our parents actually took us to see the pony the next day. But from that night on we snuck out way more than we should have. Even kept doing it when it was just Pietro and me.”

The flash of sorrow on her face does not go unnoticed and Vision brushes his fingers comfortingly along her thigh. “I am honored to be your accomplice.”

“I'm glad you're here. So where are we going, exactly?”

Vision pulls out their itinerary and a map of their route. “You will stay on this road for another ten miles before we reach the first stop. It'll be a small shoulder on the right.”

 

When they arrive, Wanda gives him an incredulous look. “I was not expecting to climb a mountain today.” Worry encases his chest as he glances between her and the mountain, but he resolves to go through with his plan. Reaching into the back seat, Vision grabs a blanket and hands it to Wanda, motioning for her to get out of the car. Her eyes are still trained on the summit when he walks up behind her and scoops her into his arms, the gasp of surprise bringing a smile to his face before he flies them up to the peak.

“I thought,” he gingerly places her back on the ground, grabbing the blanket from her arms and spreading it for them to sit, “that we could take in some new sights on the way to our destination.” Vision sits on the blanket, stretching his legs out in front of him. Slowly Wanda lowers herself to the ground, settling against his chest and grabbing his arm to wrap around her. It is only then that she looks at the scene in front of them and, much to his enjoyment, mutters “Oh my god…”  

Before them lies a valley, intercut with several narrow lakes, and surrounded by rounded mountains. Most impressive is the color of the fall foliage, smatterings of reds, golds, purples, oranges, and greens intermingle to create the illusion of a painter’s wooden pallette, new shades and hues mixing where the colors blend and morph together. “It will be dark on the way back, so I believed it best we start here.”

Wanda has not spoken, her lips parted slightly and eyes wide as she takes in the Adirondacks around them. “It’s beautiful.” They do not speak for several minutes, the chirps and rustling of insects all the conversation they need. “How many colors are there?”

“So far I have counted twenty distinct shades, but that is only from the closest mountain.”

She smiles at him, head coming to rest on his shoulder. “And which is your favorite, so far?”

Vision considers the question, it is not often that he contemplates his preferred color, but the task ends up being surprisingly easy. “That block of trees, over there,” and he points to cluster of trees that, at first glance, look to be on fire.

“What color is it?”

“I do not believe a name exists to adequately describe it.”

“No?”

His fingers lift slightly from her shoulder to play with the her hair, a habit he has developed when he is unsure of his next actions. “Not that I can identify. Could you lift your hand up?” The curiousness in her eyes pulls the corners of his mouth up, but she obliges him, lifting her hand into the air. Gently he guides it until it is in front of the cluster of trees. “Could you?” He mimics, with his other hand, the motions she typically uses with her powers. The red mist plays among her fingers, passing back and forth from knuckle to knuckle with practiced ease. “Just as I thought, it is Maximoff Red.”

“You charmer,” her chuckle spreads a heat throughout his chest, a mixture of embarrassment and affection. “You do know it's just called scarlet, right?”

“Only because people lack the ability to notice that your color is more vibrant and lively than scarlet. Now your cheeks at the moment, that is scarlet.”

“Just shut up.” Vision would be concerned at the words if they were not followed by her body turning towards him and her lips capturing his with fervor. It is amazing how the simple act of touching lips can elicit such a response, how he unconsciously finds his hands moving to grasp the fabric of her coat and pull her closer to him, needing their bodies to touch as much as humanly possible. When she pulls back, he feels the cold wind on his lips and only wishes to bring her closer. “Vision?”

“Hmm?”

“How tight of a schedule are we on today?”

His hands run along her sides, teasing a sigh from her lungs. “I believed it pertinent to build in two hours of spontaneous activity, given your predilection to actively go against schedules.”

The smile on her face stops his heart for several seconds. “Good.” And she kisses him again, lightly pushing his chest until he is laying on the ground.

 

Wanda puts the car in park while looking first at the tranquil pond ahead and then to her left where a large, industrial wall cuts a canal in half. “Is this it?”

“It is.”

“So, um, what are we looking at?”

Vision grins at her before phasing from the car and appearing next to the driver’s side door, he opens it for her and waits until she is fully out before turning in the direction of the canal. “Do you recall the documentary we watched last Saturday?” She hesitantly shakes her head, indicating that she did remember but the way she twirls the ring on her middle finger betrays her lie.  “This is one of the historic locks of the Eerie Canal.”

“Oh,” she walks towards the canal, Vision following her until they reach a railing blocking them from the water. Down below is a large chamber, closed off on each side not by a wall, but two sets of thick, metal doors, the water level in the chamber is far below that of the water outside of the doors closest to them. “This does look familiar.”

Vision phases slightly through the railing to get a better look, gears turning in his eyes to take in every detail of the lock, excited to be seeing it in real life. “It is considered an engineering wonder built to enable travel from the Great Lakes to New York City.”

When he looks at her there is a gentle smile on her face and she wraps her arms around him. “So what happens to the boat over there?”

He opens his mouth to answer but becomes distracted by a stray leaf in her hair. Reaching up, he plucks it from her curls, admiring the ombré of it from hunter green to Harvard gold to crimson. “You are collecting souvenirs.”  The rose blush spreading on her face is irresistible and so he bends down to peck her cheek.

“Vizh, look! It's filling up with water!”  They watch as the water rises in the chamber until it is level with the water outside of the door. Then, with an ominous creak, the doors push outwards to allow the boat inside before shutting again. Wanda, much to his surprise, grabs his hand and pulls him along the sidewalk so that they remain even with the boat. “What are they doing?” The two women on the boat walk onto the bow and tie a rope to a tension rod on the wall of the chamber.

“They are steadying the boat for when the water lowers.”  This time he guides her along until they reach the other doors of the lock, these ones angled inwards towards the boat. There is warning sound before water rushes into the canal, moving quickly enough to form white water at the outer base of the door. Eventually the water slows its exit and they glance inside the lock, finding that the water is now almost gone when the doors creak open.

Wanda waves at the women in the boat as they continue on their way. “Okay, that was pretty cool. Care to explain it to me over lunch?”

“You assume I scheduled time for you to eat?”

She lightly punches his shoulder while rolling her eyes and opening her mouth for a comeback, but it is cut short by the lock attendant. “Excuse me, could I take a picture with you? My granddaughter loves the Avengers.”

Though Vision hesitates to answer, Wanda simply loops her arm with his and pulls him to her side, smile ready for the camera. “Of course, but we’re kind of out in secret so if you could not post that online it would be appreciated,”

“Of course. She's going to be so excited.”

 

They end up at a small, Eastern European deli where Wanda discovers (not to Vision’s surprise) the special for the day is paprikash and by the moan of her first bite, it is immensely better than his own take on the dish. “Okay, tell me how that thing worked. I’m assuming pumps of some kind.”

Vision smiles at her genuine interest as he was afraid she would have disliked the stop. “It is gravity based, actually. There are valves located both inside the lock and outside in the canal. Depending on the direction of travel, they will open certain valves to lower or raise the water.”

“Interesting. Did you want a bite?”

“Oh, I do not wish to waste your lunch.” Wanda tilts her head to the side as she studies him, a slant to her lips that he is unable to determine the full meaning of. She gathers a small amount of food on her fork and holds it up to his lips. Hesitantly he opens his mouth and is surprised at the level of sweet and spice such a small portion can hold. “That is much different than what I made you.”

She laughs at him, taking the fork back so she can continue eating, “Well you also used cinnamon instead of paprika. So what’s next?”

“Apple picking.”

The fork stops halfway to her mouth and her face is mostly serious when she says, “Not dressed like that.”  

Vision frowns at her comment and glances down at his typical clothing, a gray cashmere sweater and black slacks. For weeks he had tried different outfits and garnered feedback from his teammates, eventually settling on the current look due to Wanda’s reaction.  He recalls how, when he walked into the kitchen that morning, she choked on her tea, blushed, and then her eyes lingered on him anytime they were in the same room. His clothing was one of the few certainties he had about fitting in with humans. “What is wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing.” Her hand reaches across the table, lying palm up and open, fingers wiggling at him until he caves and places his hand on hers. “But, you may look out of place in business casual clothes at an orchard.”

“What would you suggest?”

The sympathetic smile on her face and the way her fingers rub his hand begins to lessen his anxiety. “We need to get some gas, I can grab a magazine for you so you can choose.”

 

Which is how they find themselves in the parking lot of a fairly deserted gas station flipping through the fall edition of GQ. Vision has “tried” on multiple outfits so far but has not yet observed the desired physiologic response from Wanda. The current attempt has made her both laugh (“The neon yellow may be too bright”), but also increased her heart rate more than the others.  He determines to keep the underlying style but switch the colors to a subtler dark blue and green. He grins at the way the palpitations in her chest increase rapidly and the fact that she drops her water bottle.

“Wanda,” and when she tilts her head up to make eye contact he notes the 30 percent increase in the diameter of her pupils, “what about this one?”

She steps closer to him, bringing up her hands to trace the collar of the plaid shirt and then unnecessarily smooths the charcoal sweater on his shoulders. “This'll work, the jeans are a nice touch.” Her hands roam down to follow the lines of his pockets, “very nice touch.”

“Wanda,” Vision reaches down to grab her hands and waits for her to look up at him before he pulls her to his body and just barely grazes her lips with his own, eliciting a desperate sound from her throat. “We have used almost all of the spontaneity allotment.”

He hovers with his lips centimeters from hers, waiting for her response. The skin around her neck is flushed, her breathing shallow, like butterfly wings hitting his face. “Will you keep these clothes on all day?”

“Of course.”

“And,” Wanda raises up on her toes so that the next words cause her lips to barely brush his, “how much time do we have left?”

“Ten minutes.”

Fingers wrapped in red dig into his sweater and pull him down, and he gleefully wraps his arms around her waist, using the momentum of their kiss to phase them into the backseat and away from prying eyes.

 

When they finally reach their destination, the sun is slightly lower than where it should have been according to Vision’s carefully laid plans. “Does that sign say ‘Avengers Day?’”

“Oh yes, since we are supposed to be laying low,” he moves his hands to indicate his appearance, “and I am not the easiest to disguise, this seemed an opportune day to come here.”  They watch as at least three Visions and five Wandas walk past the car, though most of them are children.

Vision tries to open the door but finds that Wanda has locked it. “Vizh, when are you going to stop hiding behind looking different and accept the fact that you're just as human as everyone out there?”   

The radio fills the void that her words create as Vision attempts some sort of response. Though their teammates have come around to their relationship it was not without questioning glances or disapproving comments. There are also the gossip headlines of their rumored relationship and how they paint Wanda as a potentially confused and disturbed woman dating a robot.

“Stop thinking like that.” One hand grabs his and the other pulls his face so that they are staring at each other. “I don't care what they think, you don't have to protect me from such things. All that matters is that you are at my side. Understand?” His nod is sheepish, just a slight tilt up and then back down. “Good, let's go pick some apples.”

It is overwhelming to be surrounded by so many versions of not only themselves but their teammates. On top of that is the fact that it is not simply an orchard, there's also a bakery, country store, playground, wooden pictures of farmers with the faces cut out, a supposedly haunted house, and a petting zoo. Vision stops walking just to take it all in, his body swaying when Wanda keeps moving with his hand in hers. “You okay?”

“There is just so much.”  It is not just the sights that overwhelm is highly sensitive receptors, but the screaming and laughing of children intermingled with the smells of the bakery and the dirt and the animals and likely the children as well; they live so much of their time in a vacuum that it is odd to experience such an explosion of life.

The weight of her arm encircling his waist allows him to focus only on her. “Their minds are loud too.”

They share a smile of commiseration before he glances up again. “Wanda,” he draws her attention to a sign at the petting zoo, “They have a pony, perhaps we can get an autograph.”

“I should never have told you that.”

 

“Wanda?”

“Yeah Vizh?”

“How intelligent are these creatures?”  He is currently in a minutes long staring contest with a llama, which is conceivably what would be called cute, but it's shifty eyes and the way it masticates grass makes him think it has an attitude.

“I think they're pretty stupid, but I have heard they can be a bit nasty.” He breaks eye contact just long enough to watch her scratch the head of the (not so famous) pony. When he looks back the llama has moved on, clearly disinterested.

As they move through the barn Vision notices that Wanda keeps glancing back and that the cacophony of children's voices follow them. Eventually her hand on his arm stops him and he follows her eyes to a group of hens following them around. Then a pigeon, followed by another and another land on his shoulders. “Wanda?” He says her name with a plea of help hopefully evident in his voice. But instead of responding right away she pulls out her phone and takes a picture.

“You're like Snow White!”

“Wanda what do I do?”

She shrugs, taking another picture, an amused smirk on her face. “You could try singing?”

“That is not helpful.” Vision begins to notice all of the adults and a disturbing amount of children also pulling out phones. Before he can ask her for help again, the phones all flash red followed by very colorful complaints and people tapping their now unreceptive devices. “I think I know why this is happening.”

She crosses her arms, not even attempting to hide her amusement at his predicament. “Enlighten me.”

Vision flinches as a one of the pigeons lowers its face so that its beady little eyes are staring at him upside down. “The vibranium must present a certain magnetic field and avian creatures often use magnetoreception in navigation.”

“So you are like a little beacon of comfort for them?”  She smiles again and walks towards him, shooing away the birds. “I know, not helpful.”  

“Perhaps we should move on?”

 

They sit side by side on a tractor wagon, legs dangling over the edge and Wanda’s head on his shoulder, the crisp fall air biting his lungs with each inhalation, and Vision considers that going against orders can be (after the initial terror) quite relaxing. A tiny hand taps his shoulder and when he turns in that direction he finds himself staring down at a small, poorly painted red face with three teeth missing and the rest jutting in every direction, a tattered yellow blanket tied around the child’s neck. “I like your costume.”

“Thank you, yours is quite good as well.”  When he speaks the little girl’s eyes widen and she sits up with excitement. Vision has little experience with children, outside of the few interactions with the Barton clan, and so he is not expecting for her to wrap her arms around him, the hug is gentle though enthusiastic, her arms too short to reach more than halfway across his chest and shoulders.

“You are my favorite! One day I am going to fly and fight just like you.” Wanda lifts her head in order to watch the interaction and when the girl catches sight of her she trembles with excitement. “You are my second favorite!”  

The way Wanda melts at the words is something he has never seen before, her breath releases into a soft sigh and a wide, toothy grin spreads across her face as her muscles relax to the point of bearing most of her weight on him as she leans over. A red wisp of energy flies to the girl, lifting the apple from her hand and the laughter that follows is contagious.

When they jump off the tractor they are met with dozens of rows of trees, each row with a small, hand painted sign detailing the type of apples: Cortland, Macoun, Red Delicious, Empire, Gala, Rome, and Macintosh.  Wanda chooses a row at random.

“I read,” Vision explains as they push aside branches in search of apples, “that the best ones are located at the top of the tree.”

Wanda stops, hand still holding a branch to the side, and looks up. “Oh yeah, they are huge up there.” She glances around to see if anyone else is nearby before instructing him to hold the bag open. With a flick of her wrist the top of the tree rustles and a plume of apples fall down, perhaps a third going in the bag, a third hitting the ground, and the last third pummeling Vision’s head. “Oh shit, sorry.”

“It is okay, perhaps a bit more finesse next time.” And so they work together, walking each row until they find the most fruitful tree. Wanda envelopes a bundle of apples and brings them gently into the open bag. It takes them several times of doing this before they notice that they have gathered a group of shadows, led by the tiny Vision from the tractor. Wanda makes sure to knock a few extra apples down each time for the kids and they continue in this fashion until their bag is about to burst.

On the walk back to the car, Wanda insists on stopping at the bakery, all of the signs proclaiming the apple cider donuts to be heaven on earth have persuaded her to try some. Vision follows her into the crowded store, apples in hand, and watches as she buys a bag of the donuts, trying one immediately. “Oh my god, Vision. It’s so hot and soft and mmmm.” He notices, as she finishes the donut and opens her bag for another, that there is a ring of cinnamon sugar around her mouth. He puts the apples down and pulls her face to his, enjoying the feel of her free arm grabbing his shirt and the way she gasps into his mouth.

“That is delicious.”

 

As Wanda pulls the car back into the compound’s garage they are both silent and he believes that she may be a touch melancholy. The rings on her fingers clink against the keys when she turns the car off and she pivots towards him, a sad smile on her face. “Thanks so much for today, I wish it could last longer.”

“I still have one more item on the itinerary.” He smirks at her and reaches back for the apples. “We have to do something with 16 pounds of apples.  If you would be willing to supervise my baking, I had groceries delivered while we were gone.”

It is after the apple bread is cooling on the rack, the apple butter is simmering in the crockpot, apple crisp half eaten with melted ice cream dripping through the crumb topping, and apple cider is chilling in the fridge, that Vision begins to feel that Wanda’s interests have shifted from the apples.  He is in the process of reducing the sauce for the apple baklava fresh out of the oven when he feels her hands running along his back. The sensations of the pattern of both hands running up, spreading out to his shoulders, and then fingertips dancing down his sides causes his lips to quirk up. “You know, this sauce will be done in five minutes and then I am all yours.”

She scoffs behind him, hands disappearing from his back only to be replaced by strands of red turning him around to face her. “I don’t think I can last five more minutes of staring at you in those jeans.”

“I have faith in your patience.” The words are cut by his laughter as he leans down to kiss her before attempting to turn back to the stove, only the red strands hold him in place as she presses her body close to his. “Perhaps,” her lips only allow him a second to talk, “I am,” she runs her fingers along his scalp, “wrong.”  

“You are.”

Vision reaches back to turn off the stove and focuses all of his attention on the way Wanda gasps and squirms at his fingers on her arms. He tries to move them towards their quarters but she holds a hand to his chest, and he is so under her spell that it requires little force to make him stop walking. “You know, Vizh,” her accent has grown thick and the husk as she emphasizes the _zh_ makes his judgment hazy, “since you broke one order today, there is another I’ve been trying to get you to go against.” Vision glances to the very clearly framed “Rules of Public Affection” nailed to the wall, a document drawn up soon after the time Steve walked into the common room to find Wanda and Vision entangled (fully clothed, they pointed out) on the couch, though he claims it is not in any way related to the unspoken incident. It states, in some amount of words, that all common areas easily accessible by teammates are off limits for certain affectionate activities.

“I already turned the cameras back on.”

“That is easily taken care of,” she runs her finger through the extra baklava filling and dots it on his lips, “no one is coming back tonight.”  Any resistance that existed is thrown away as her tongue delicately removes the filling from his lips, and so he gives in, hands reaching under her thighs and lifting her so that their faces are even, a laugh resounding from her chest as she wraps her legs around his waist.

“Um...guys?”

Wanda slowly pulls back, eyes wide and still clouded in red, her mouth forming what he assumes is “Oh shit.”

“Captain Rogers,” Vision moves his head to look over Wanda’s shoulders, unsure if he should continue to hold her or put her down. Indecision dictates he let’s her stay wrapped around him. “Welcome back, a couple things to note is that the security cameras shorted out today, but should be fixed and there are a plethora of desserts that you all may eat. I hope you enjoyed your trip.” With a nod of his head he phases them down through the floor, overhearing Sam comment to Steve, “Oh yeah, we should be so worried about if they can occupy their time, must come back tonight.”

When they get through the floor they find themselves in Tony's lab. Wanda tightens her legs around him, a devious twinkle in her eyes as she says “This is even better.”  And all thoughts are thrown away like leaves in the breeze when she kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed the fluff!


End file.
